Memorized prayers offer us a spiritual home

Catholics get a bad rap for rattling off prayers from memory. To outsiders, our practice of memorizing and reciting prayers seems at best sterile and at worst, insincere. The criticism is understandable at first glance, but perhaps what the critics don’t know is that the alternative is capped spiritual growth and stunted fortitude for enduring times of trial and dryness. 

There is a reason why we say we “know something by heart” once we’ve committed it to memory. When something has been integrated into our memory it finds a home in the deeper strata of our being. All the major world religions since their inception have placed considerable value upon memorization. Pope John Paul II spoke against “memoryless catechesis,” insisting the neglect of simple memorization is akin to robbing children of a “moral compass” and leaving them without a “place to call home, spiritually speaking.”

The founder of the Institute for Excellence in Writing, Andrew Pudewa, says memorizing anything is the equivalent of “furnishing the mind.” Although modern schooling methods have decided memorizing is out of style, there is immense value in letting the mind absorb and mull over words of wisdom committed to memory, be it prayers, Scripture, or excerpts from beautiful literature.

In the life of a Christian, there will be times when the fire of love and inspiration will waver; jobs will get stressful, and young children will require every ounce of physical energy and creativity we have. In these moments when we feel we have nothing but sighs to offer to God, we can also offer him that which we have committed to memory and has taken up permanent real estate in our brains (and by extension in our bodies and hearts). In those moments, we can become the very truth, beauty, and goodness we find in the words we have memorized.

When we sit down to pray and our minds will not focus, the most efficient way to settle our spirits enough to pray is to call down words from the cathedrals of our memory.

This simple “preparatory” prayer was used by St. Josemaria Escriva and is just one example from the Church’s treasury: 

“Lord, I believe that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I beg your pardon for my many sins and the grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. Mary, my mother; Saint Joseph, my father and lord; my guardian angel: intercede for me.”

When our minds can’t be trusted to cross over the bridges leading to contemplation, we must rely on vocal prayers to take us there by the hand; we must rely heavily on acts of the will. If there are no prayers in our memories, what poverty indeed. 

A quick prayer spoken from memory calls forth blessing; it reminds our flesh of the spiritual realm all around us because our thoughts do not tend toward this way of living on their own. We can trust that what we have memorized represents truths we choose to believe regardless of our emotions. We tap into the power of the communion of saints and into the faith of the people of God on earth. Our memory serves as a steadfast friend who is a mainstay when we cannot trust ourselves.

“However, take care and be earnestly on your guard not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live but teach them to your children and to your children’s children” (Dt 4:9).

If you do not furnish your mind and the minds of your children with numerous blessings, prayers, and Scriptures, it is as if you are politely refusing the family fortune that falls to you. The help and the wealth that has been dropped onto our laps – for us to feast upon and to give to our children for their welfare and flourishing – is nothing short of opulence.